


Doki Doki Literature Club! Sayori After-END

by Scythe_of_Starlight



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Complex Grief, Complex Guilt, Complicated Grief, Depression, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Headcanon, Heterochromia, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Manpain, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protagonist is named Nanashi, Psychological Trauma, Psychosis, References to Depression, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Survivor Guilt, Therapy, guilt complex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 03:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18175061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scythe_of_Starlight/pseuds/Scythe_of_Starlight
Summary: No matter how much I mourn, the guilt never goes away.Nor should it, I'm to blame, after all. No matter how many people try to deceive me with talks of ‘you're not at fault,’ ‘you did your best,’ or the classic ‘there was nothing you could do,’ I will never believe their lies.It's all my fault, every second! From the second I joined the Literature Club-- no, from the first day we met, to the unknown that comes after day I die, her death will forever be my fault.And I'll never be able to see her again. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never...





	Doki Doki Literature Club! Sayori After-END

**Author's Note:**

> I know Salvato said the Protagonist wasn't a real character in his eyes, but his reaction to Sayori's death was too real for me to just let him go.  
> Named him Nanashi, which fittingly means "Nameless"
> 
> Clocking in at twenty three pages, this is the longest thing I've written so far!  
> I hope you enjoy it!

The first thought in my head every morning is as it always is:  
I miss her.

 

I'd do literally anything to her to come back safe, sound, and happy with the rest of the Literature Club and I. To hear her voice calling out from the other end of my cell phone, yelling at me to wake up on time, to see her smiling face beam with (fake) happiness as I sluggishly leave the confines of my house, to feel her hand hastily grab mine on a day where I was walking too slowly for her liking and she practically drags me all the way to school. Just one more time, I wish I could see her just one more time. All the things I'd say, every tear I’d shed, if I could just see her one more time...that would be the day where I'd apologize to her properly.

 

That moment when she confessed to me, what did I even respond with? I'm sorry for not remembering.

 

I've replayed her confession in my head so many times that, I can't even guess how many times I've heard that blood curdling scream as her heartbroken figure falls against the fence and crumples to the ground as if I literally threw her away, versus feeling the midday heat beat down on us as I embrace her in a loving hug. Pressing play, looping, repeating, and rewinding back through every scenario I could possibly think of, just to rewind it back and press play all over again. I'm really sorry.

 

I know I don't deserve her love, friendship, or forgiveness but...whenever she comes to mind the words ‘I'm sorry’ are the first I think of, with ‘forgive me’ and ‘I miss you’ being a close second and third place. She's probably scoffing at my million apologies, from wherever she is.

 

If she were to look me in the face and laugh, laugh at my arrogance in thinking that I actually had what it took to help - or worse save - her, then I'd happily let her laugh at me for all eternity. Not only would she be perfectly justified, at least then she'd be truly **happy** . But no matter how much I mourn, the guilt never goes away.  
  
Nor should it, I'm to blame after all. No matter how many people try to deceive me with talks of ‘you're not at fault,’ ‘you did your best,’ or the classic ‘there was nothing you could do,’ I will never believe their lies.

 

It's all my fault, every second! From the second I joined the Literature Club--no, from the first day we met, to the unknown that comes after day I die, her death will forever be my fault.

 

And I'll never be able to see her again. Never. Never. Never. Never. _Never..._

 

I feel the familiar cold sweat conjure beads on my hidden hairline and neck as my head stays buried behind my arms, the desk I sit in beginning the subtle vibration that occurs when I start trembling. Once again I clench my hands into the fabric of my uniform blazer, trying to give myself any other sensation in the (false) hope of drowning out the torrent of misery in my head. My nails dig in deeper with every new thought that came to mind, trembling worsening in kind. Think of something else. Think of anyone else. Look around the room if you have to, just don't think about that day! Alright?!

 

...alright.

 

Slowly raising my head, the light threatens to ruin my vision before I blink it away. Suddenly, the biting cold that clings to my cheeks after losing their comfort zone can only indicate that I'd started crying again, the dull pain in my elbow that strikes up my arm as I wipe away my tears with the damp cuff of my blazer sleeve reminds me that I do in fact live in a world where she doesn't exist anymore. This is a world where I don't deserve to live at all.

 

Ugh, I miss her, what I wouldn't do to see her again... How could've I been so stupid?!  
  
Rubbing my eyes, I feel that their absurdly swollen, I imagine that I look pretty bad from an outsider's point of view. Red, swollen, lifeless eyes with heavy bags under them, hair of apathy driven bed-head, a wrinkled undershirt over a tear soaked blazer, cold sweat covering my face, dirt scuffed pants that I haven't had the energy to clean, I think I missed some buttons on my blazer, and my tie went missing, though I've replaced it with her lopsided ribbon. Oh and I'm wearing her hair bow. I'm never taking it off, never.

 

Around me is the usual Literature Club room, this entire club should have it's days numbered just like her calendar but according to Monika, after the loss of her and the clear devastation it brought to us as a whole, the Principal is letting us remain as Literature Club despite being under the required member limit to officially create a club. That's the only bit of good news that's came my way since her death, but nothing else.

 

It's been more than two years since her funeral and everyone else on planet Earth seems to have forgotten her except me. Maybe the guilt and flashbacks have their benefits. I'll never (never, never) be able to forget, sometimes at night I swear I can hear her breathing at my bedside, an ever present blue of her eyes haunting me from the corner of my eye. Sometimes my tolerance wears breaks down and I scream questions of ‘where are you?!’ and mutter apologies as I bury my head beneath the blankets, in an attempt to smother myself.  
  
I miss her so much that it hurts. Throughout the weeks after her death, I made it a sworn oath of mine that I would never miss an opportunity to be in the Literature Club, this mainly entails never missing a day of school and always be there during club meetings. Her final wish was for me to be happy in the Literature Club, that's why she convinced me in the first place, out of worry that I was isolating myself from any potential fun I would've missed out on. I understand this now. So here I remain.

 

At first Monika, Yuri, and Natsuki would all bombard me with concern, with Monika actually asking me to step outside with her, just for her to sheepishly ask if I've been taking care of myself and that - back then - I was starting to ‘look a bit sickly’ as if just being alive after everything that happened weren't good enough for her high-as-heaven standards. Over and over, I was forced to reassure her that yes: everything IS fine and no: I don't need ANYTHING.  
  
Yuri was quite the opposite in her approach with me, often leaving things on my desk when it came to be dismissed. Nutritional snack foods, short story collections, a couple aromatherapy things (she seems to like lavender??), and even a number of custom poems I assume she'd written for me for some reason. They're all collecting dust in my room so it's fine.  
  
Natsuki would be the one who would rail on me the hardest, I thought, but no. She's something of a blend between the other two, sometimes sending sentiments and other times awkwardly asking about my day and showing concern about if I'm doing okay. The answer was always yes. I can only assume that she got sick of hearing that since she was the first to give up on me. Figures.

 

If I couldn't do anything for her then you can't do anything for me. I guarantee that.

 

Nowadays I'm nothing but a weird and twitchy background object that occasionally mumbles a word or two, and starts shaking at random intervals. That must be how they see me now, no one even reacted when I came to school wearing her uniform's ribbon and her bow, steadily talking among themselves in their language of television static and garbled nonsense. But even if I made an oath, never misunderstand in knowing that I am trapped here. Her final wish is to keep me in the Literature Club, to be reminded of all things I could've done better and to punish me for the crime of murdering her. Sometimes I can see her dead body on a poster in the back of the club room, that proves how angry she is at me.  
  
I'm so sorry, even now I hope you can forgive me. I wasn't smart enough to know what would make you feel better, wasn't strong enough to make the rain clouds go away even for a moment, I wasn't confident enough in my conviction to even remember what I said to you the day before, and I know I wasn't fast enough prevent your death the day after. So just between you and me, it was murder. It's all my fault. And I deserve this punishment. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

 

What's that shuffling...?

 

Finally remembering that the pain in my head is caused by the fingernails that dig marks into my hairline and cheeks, I peel my hands off my face and take a proper look around. Emptiness. The Literature Club is completely empty. Except for me, the things on my (her former) desk, and the memories of her. Seems I've been stuck in my own head for yet another club meeting... The sweet smell that wafts to my nose is coming from one of the items, my stomach does a cramp induced flip that has me clutching it in a deeply unsettling pain.  
  
Must've forgotten to eat today as well, Natsuki made this without a doubt. It's a well sized pastel red fabric baggy that's decorated with yellow star shaped trinkets, tied closed with a gold ribbon, and handmade patterns done in an array of colored permanent markers. The contents - though unseen - are obvious from the maddeningly appetizing scent.

 

Homemade chocolate chip cookies.

 

Just the smell and sight of these things is making me feel faint, sudden spots pepper my vision as the orange haze of the setting sun threatens to paint my eyes even redder.

 

Woozily, I rip my attention off the sickeningly sweet treats to find something arguably worse: a cup of tea, still hot enough to steam and looks to have been made with the perfect amount of creamer, evident from the hazel brown color of the liquid. Do I even remember telling Yuri how I liked my tea...? No matter. The cup is one that I've personally never seen before: a finely crafted tea cup painted in a deep red with even finer embroideries of gold and a shade of off-white, the construction feels so dainty and lovingly made that it seemed like being touched by a lowly commoner scum like myself would cause it to break in vitriolic disgust. That's the type of design it has.

 

Testing my imaginary hypothesis, I touch the cup that Yuri left with me, it's hot but intact. Success.

 

Wondering how recently it was made, I catch a glimpse of something like a girl’s silhouette by the interior window, but turning my head left me staring into the empty hallway. Great, she's actually driving me insane.

 

Swallowing a mouthful of saliva that I didn't even know was there until now, I look on at the final item on my desk - this one undoubtedly from the club leader herself - Monika. Thankfully it's not another food item, though the risk of fainting is still dangerously close. Instead the thing left by the pianist is skillfully wrapped in a velvet envelope, the front of which is stamped with a cheap gold colored music note sticker. It's the main S-looking one that's the first thing someone sees on a page of sheet music. With a trembling hand, I cautiously reach out to feel it's texture.

 

This is a high quality envelope...not so papery and thin like the typical kind, this one must've been made from a special kind of construction paper. It just has that feel. Flipping it over reveals that this was a collaborative effort between all three of them.

 

Natsuki went nuts with the remaining stickers (I'm guessing) and made something of a color coded collage on the back, being filled with hearts, little books, pens, more music notes, rainbows, and a bunch of other things. She was undoubtedly been coached by Yuri. The purple haired girl's cursive handwriting is even neatly written in an alternating color scheme of green, purple, pink....a-and blue.

Then it hit me.

 

Our eye colors.

 

Monika's green, Yuri's purple, Natsuki's pink and...and her beautiful sky blues. All of their items have the colors red and gold because they're addressed to me - who has natural heterochromia. I always thought that having two colored eyes made me look like a monster. I guess I still have my complex over it as well, since I still put my yellow contact in without even thinking... So if even they know about that, then...she must've told them.

 

The realization that I didn't even read the words written is what shocked me out of my hazy eyed delirium and back into the reality where she isn't here anymore.

Their message reads:

 

_Addressed to you, Nanashi_

_from_

_The Literature Club_

 

_PS - it's a surprise! ❤️💛_

 

No.

Oh please God no... No, oh come on...! No more surprises..! I hate surprises! More than anything!! After what I've seen behind the door to her room, I..! I just can't!! Guys come on! Why?! Why are you guys punishing me too?? Do you hate me that much? If so I understand... I'm sorry to you all as well... I n-never meant to...! I-I swear I never meant to kill her! Please, I'm sorry! Forgive me! Forgive me already-!

It's happening, not again! Please not again--!! The unmistakable sight of her hanging by the noose appears in the classroom in the blink of an eye, I lose the fabric of my surroundings as everything in the background suddenly breaks apart and leaves me stranded in a greyscale nightmare.

I know an exception has occurred.

What the hell?

What the hell??

What is this?

 

My internal panic attack is cut short with the sound of someone banging on something strong, which caused me to physically jump in my chair, almost spilling hot tea on the desk. Was that from a metallic door perhaps? A locker?? Worriedly looking around the room, I somehow can't hear the alarm bells go off in my head. Was someone from a different club banging on someone else's door? Yeah...that must've been it…

 

Turning my attention back to the evening-lit classroom, the image of her corpse had once again vanished just as quickly as it arrived. Shame. I would've loved to see her face again…

 

The desk I'm at remains unchanged. The unopened letter, the cup of tea, and the bag of cookies are still there, alongside the inviting scents and the lightheadedness.  
  
I stare at the envelope with creeping anxiety. What even is this for? It's nowhere near my birthday, there's no special occasion, and they don't seem like the type who would pull a prank this cruel. Are they…? I mean, this **is** a surprise, so…

 

“What's going on?” I finally ask out loud after another few days of having gone mute.

 

My voice sounds like ages old metal scraping across concrete. That's no exaggeration.

 

Maybe speaking a bit did me some good, because I actually summoned the strength to grip the envelope with both hands, slowly make my way across the flap, and undo the music note sticker without too much stress. The flap comes free and I can see that inside are a couple sheets of folded paper, though too obscured to see properly, I can make out that all of them are filled with writing. Oh God here we go.

 

But that reminds me. I haven't been participating in the poem sharing since she died, that's to be expected but...what really confuses me is that I'm still writing poems at all. Mainly dreams that I've had and failed attempts to put my feelings into words. It doesn't make me feel better and lately, I've been hearing her voice mocking everything I write. Even tried to draw a [ picture of her ](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/doki-doki-literature-club/images/b/b5/Poem_special1.png/revision/latest?cb=20171203174924) one time, but hated the sight of my first attempt so much that I [ burned the damn thing ](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/doki-doki-literature-club/images/5/57/Eyes.png/revision/latest?cb=20171210162541) over the oven.

 

Things got so bad that I had to cover my ears after jotting down this one dream I had where [ I was drowning](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/doki-doki-literature-club/images/1/13/400px-Poem_special11.png/revision/latest?cb=20180122171920).

 

Ironic, now _she's_ the one who won't get out of _my_ head.

 

My chest hurts.

 

“Is that what this is? A collection of poems?” I ask myself. Don't I have enough? I almost said out loud.

 

Can't tell for certain but that seems to be purple pen ink, so Yuri must've written this page. Hesitantly, I close my eyes and take the papers out of the envelope, keeping them shut while I turn away and brace myself with all my might, as if I were opening Pandora's Box itself.

 

My heart thunders fast enough to beat against my rib cage, I do my best to keep from knocking anything over with my violent trembling by channeling it all into my leg, tapping my foot on the floor with an annoying rhythm.

 

Through the darkness of my eyelids, I feel my hands fearfully unfold the papers. There must be five pages at least, those girls must've really been working together on this weird secret project of theirs. I'm thinking now, this must be what the tea and cookies are for, to keep me here while I read this.

 

Taking a very deep inhale, I force all the apprehension out of my mind in one big sigh, - a learned trait that I taught myself - and ever so carefully, ever so slowly…

 

...I gently open my eyes.

 

To a multicolored collaboration between the remaining members of the Literature Club.

  
                                                       
                                                         
                                                         
                                                         
                                                       
                                                           
                                                         
                                                                                                 

I found myself staring at the end of their letter for a long time, looking through the memories of my own attempt from my own point of view. I almost forgot that I even attempted anything. The walk to the roof is something I only half-remember, but the main thing is hearing her voice far off into the distance the day before, ‘ _Nanashi...Nanashi…’_ I would hear. All day long, I think. By the time it came to sit in the club room, the pure sadness in her crying voice solidified the desire in my mind.  
  
Follow her. No matter what.  
  
My note was simple, even if the formatting messed up a little. My parents were annoying. I was sure the club members wouldn’t notice. So when it came time to go, I placed the note, and took my leave.  
  
After that, the only thing I remember is walking and hearing for the places where her voice would get louder. I eventually realized that she was leading to the roof of the school. The sky was so blue, clouds a purest white, windows wide open - letting the gentle breeze roll in every so often. Sakura petals fluttering in when the wind rustled the tree branches hard enough, it was the last day of school before summer break began, and I wasn’t about to live in a meaningless world for yet another twenty four hours. My own footsteps echoed a little, and her calling out to me was getting louder and louder for every flight of stairs I ascended.  
  
Really though I have no recollection of hearing Natsuki yelling at me, feeling Yuri pull at my arm, or seeing Monika with tears in her eyes as she begged me to stop. I don’t remember any of that!

 

I was completely alone, with nothing but my footsteps, her voice, the empty school halls, the stairs, and the doors to the roof. I certainly don’t recall pushing Natsuki out of my way or anything, the only things in my way were the doors and the fence. Even on ‘autopilot’ I don’t think I’d do that. But then again...the only thing I’ve been able to think about for a long time now is her, so maybe I just like...deleted them from my mind for a second? Does that even make sense?  
  
I mean, some of the dreams I’ve had have been disturbingly vivid, so maybe my memories are just a coma dream I had while unconscious in the hospital, like I was replaying the events in my head except in my dream, I was alone? And I really did ignore everyone’s efforts to call me back in real life?  
  
Closing my eyes to get a proper picture of what exactly happened, the sensory deprivation of not being able to see anything brought my attention to the taste of chocolate and lukewarm sugary tea in my mouth. So that’s why I don’t feel sick anymore. Natsuki and Yuri will be happy to hear about that.  
  
Oh right, they’re in the hall aren’t they? I could ask them.  
  
Looking over toward the interior window, I see something out of the corner of my eye.  
  
At the edge of the window, there’s the signature white ribbon and a glimpse of her side bang and emerald green eyes as she peeks through the window to look at me, practically cuddled up next to her is the flowing haired Yuri whose eyes are pretty much covered by the length of her length of her front bangs. Beneath the both of them is the unmistakably short Natsuki, though I can make out her expression because she’s too far away. They must’ve been the cause of that shuffling I heard earlier, maybe the loud banging too.  
  
Turning my head enough to properly view them, Yuri shrinks back behind Monika, being the most anxious about my reaction to all this. Natsuki actually seems pretty unsure of herself as well, quickly turning away when my gaze attempts to meet hers. The only one who remains firm is the ever confident Monika, but even she’s uncomfortable, clutching both hands at her chest as if to calm her heartbeat.  
  
As calmly as I can, I use a light hand gesture to summon them back in the classroom. The three look each other over, nod, and hesitantly move over to the door.  One of them quietly opens it, they all enter the room almost on their tiptoes. For a split second I thought I saw her walking with them…

  
We share glances at each other for what must’ve been a minute, but at last someone breaks the ice.  
  
“Nanashi…” Monika began, “...are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah.” I replied, voice creaking from under-use.  
  
“Do you want anything?”  
  
After a second is given to think, “No, just to talk.” I said quietly.  
  
I think I saw their ears perk.  
  
“O-Oh...what, what do you want to talk about?” Yuri trembled.  
  
It took me a second to think of something to say. To pick one topic out of the hundreds that swarm around in my head, is more difficult than I thought.

 

But the reason I called them here is a good enough starting point.

 

“Hey you guys,” I said in a low tone “I think I'm misremembering some things.”

 

“What things?” Monika said, her serious expression dropping a little.

 

“The walk to the rooftop.” I said, “I don't remember seeing anyone else there.”

 

“So we really didn't exist to you?” Natsuki finally chimes in, “I definitely remember chasing you up the stairs with the others though! We couldn't catch you!”

 

“Please, I'm not that fast.” I wasn't fast enough to save her in time.

 

“No really, after getting to the staircases, you started running at full speed! Remember?” She turns towards the other two for confirmation.

 

“Yea-yeah, I remember getting pushed down the stairs...I-I think…” Yuri fiddles with her hair.

 

“Yeah, I had to run back to check if Yuri got hurt... She had some scratches but nothing severe.”

 

So, I guess my memories of that time are a just coma dream…

 

“But do you really want to talk about this?” Monika leans down over me, then glancing at the other two, “I don't want to re-traumatize anyone.”

 

I can't help but scoff, “Please, I'm not traumatized.”

 

“What? You were the one who-”

 

“N-Natsuki…” Yuri cut her off at the pass in a hushed tone.

 

“Yeah, I tried but the only people who actually get traumatized are war veterans and abuse victims.”

 

A thick blanket of silence overtook the whole room, trapping us in place. The girls all stare at me with confused faces. Fine, if you want me to explain, I will.

 

“I killed her. I don't count.”

 

The color drained from their faces, Yuri glances at the other two before turning back to stare at me.

 

“N-Nanashi….h-h-how could you say that…?” The purple haired girl stuttered out.

 

“Because it's true. I'm the reason that she died therefore I killed her. Her note even told me - repeatedly - to get out of her head. It's my fault, and yet, I was never able to convince the police to arrest me.” I said, my voice monotone.

 

Looking back, the officer who questioned me seemed kinda upset that I was ‘blaming myself’ so not even the law enforcement took me seriously.

 

“Nanashi…” Monika cried weakly.

 

My gold/red eyes gaze into her emerald greens.

 

“How long...have you been feeling this way…?” The Club President asked, fearful of my answer.

 

Well…

“Always. Honestly, I never wanted to tell anyone, but you kinda forced my hand so--” I stop mid sentence as I see Natsuki collapse to her knees with a loud _thump!_ Clutching her face in what seems to be shame.

 

I still don't get what's wrong. “It's just the truth isn't it? People who drive others to suicide are the same as murderers. Even if she killed herself that doesn't negate the fact that I am to blame for it.” Despite my best efforts, I can feel my voice cracking, “Seriously guys, it goes further than that, I see her glaring at me when I try to sleep, she berates everything I try to write, the only thing that brought me to the roof was hearing her voice calling my name from very far away…”

 

They're all starting to cry now. Yuri has hit the chalkboard and slowly slides down to the floor, trembling violently as tears free-fall down her cheeks.

 

“Look at you all! She's right! She's been right all along! I ruin everything I touch! Even you all, I've hurt you all so much that a months-ago attempt at atonement feels like it was yesterday to you guys! I've traumatized you all!!”

 

“Atonement?!” Monika repeated in disbelief.

 

“Yeah! Which is I can't understand how you guys are still able to pretend that you care about me!” I didn't mean to start yelling or crying but here we are, “You didn't have to go out of your way to write this for me, or make sure that I ate something...you could've just let me wither away in the back of the class like normal! So why didn't you, huh?! What's so special about me?!?”

 

Out of habit I go looking for her, eyes darting around the room like I've lost sight of a fly that's been buzzing around my head.

 

“But tell me, you understand!! Don't you!?? That's why you want me to follow you right??! To leave them alone?! To make up for what I did to you and the Literature Club?! You don't have to hide anymore, I know you're here!!” I call out to the empty air of the club room, desperately searching for her.

 

The others can only watch as I abruptly get out of her old desk chair, expanding my search by walking around the room. “Where are you?! Where are you??! You're here aren't you?! So just come back already!!! Everyone misses you!!” I must look like a complete psycho.

 

I was about to keep calling out for her until…

 

“Nanashi...Nanashi...out here…”

 

... I hear the same faint whisper I heard back then. I should've known that--

 

“--she's still waiting for me.”

 

The others gasp as they snap out of their own panic attacks.

 

I slowly turn my full attention to the evening scenery outside, the front courtyard of the school, the cherry blossom tree in full bloom, the open gate leading back to civilization. But even if I can't see her, I know.

 

“Out here, out here, Nanashi…”

 

I have to follow her.

 

**No matter what.**

 

Suddenly, everyone else disappears. They're just not needed anymore.

 

“Nanashi… This way, Nanashi…”

 

With steady steps I make my way past the rows of desks toward the window directly in front of me. The only thing I hear are my footsteps and her asking me to follow her.

 

“This way, come closer!”

 

Finally reaching the window, I carefully undo the lock and in one fell swoop, it opens effortlessly.

 

The commotion of everyday life drones on as a gust of wind blows through the room, almost rustling the papers on her desk clean to the floor, there's a slight resistance pulling at my back but it vanishes seconds later.

 

Beneath the noises of daily life I make out her voice, still filled with false cheer.

 

“Jump, Nanashi! Jump down to me! I'll catch you!”

 

Alright.

 

Leaning my head out the window, I reach a hand outward as I lift a leg to rest a knee on the windowsill and prepare to leave this empty, rotten, unfair world behind in favor of something better.

 

“That's it! Jump! Jump!”

 

I imagine her smiling ear to ear.

 

I've never been happier.

 

“I...trust you--”

 

“ ** _NANASHI!! DON’T!!!_ **”

 

Until something pulls me back with such force that it makes my footing slip back into the classroom and knock my head on the top of the window pane, I started seeing stars. Everything blurs back hard enough to make me dizzy as whatever dragged me back only appears as a flicker before a piercing slap and the stinging pain resonates across my cheek.

 

I stumble over and fall to the unforgiving wooden floor, the pain so intense that everything goes dark for a second.

 

There's the feeling that someone is clinging onto me. It's this super tight grip that a person has underneath my right arm, their pressing themselves against my chest and squeezing my waist. On the other hand is another person whose practically wrapped themselves around my left arm, holding a firm death grip on it, as if hellbent on cutting the circulation. There's also a third person. In contrast with the others, this one is directly in front, straddling my lap. Holding my face with such a gentle touch that I swore she'd came back, but no.

 

Carefully opening my eyes, I find out who exactly these people are.

 

Monika looks me dead in the eye with unflinching sternness, still cupping my swollen cheeks. To my left is Natsuki, still as a stone, unwilling to let go of my arm even when I try to wriggle out of her strong grasp. The girl holding on to me is Yuri who is still trembling ever so slightly, though it seems like she's calmed down some. Which is good…

 

As I sit on the floor with the members of the Literature Club completely surrounding me, I can still hear the rest of the world peacefully going on with their lives, blissfully unaware of the nonsense that just transpired in this classroom.

 

But no matter how hard I strain my ears…

 

“...I can't hear her anymore.” I say aloud.

 

“Good.” Monika replied, almost as monotone as I was.

 

I really pissed her off…

 

“Everyone…” I say, my heart still racing as my chest aches with regret, “I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't be.” Monika stated. “No one is mad at you.”

 

Yuri shook her head, “It's okay, y-you don't have to apologize.”

 

“Don't be stupid, what did you do wrong?” Natsuki said, clearly bitter at someone.

 

“I…”

 

Having come up blank in looking for an excuse, there's no choice but to come clean.

 

“I killed Sayo--” as expected, an extremely tight sensation binds itself around my neck. It puts the girls’ grip on me to shame. “I-I killed...Sa--! Sayo--!!” The more I try to force her name off my tongue, the worse this strangulation feeling gets. I've passed out from this before.

 

“Sa--! S-Sa-ah, a--!” My vision begins to go dark as I can feel the blood heating up in my head.

 

It's like I'm hanging from a noose.

 

“Stop. Stop forcing yourself.” Monika commands me.

 

“Sa-- ah, khah! Ah, gha-!” I can't even take a breath at this point. The breeze outside won't reach me. Stress induced tears well up in the corners of my eyes as I feel them start to roll to the back of my head.

 

Monika lightly rubbing my burning cheeks somehow makes the imaginary rope loosen itself somewhat.

 

“Wha-aahh, ah?” I sputter out somehow, attempting to ask why she's doing this.

 

“Shhhh. There's no need to say anything, just breathe.” Monika dropped the authoritative act in a heartbeat, replacing it with something that matches her normal sweetness. “Just calm down, okay? Just breathe.”

 

On my left, Natsuki eased off on her death grip, holding my hand just as softly as the Club President is holding my face. “Don't get any ideas, you moron.” She mumbled. Still berating me even now I see, honestly that's kinda refreshing in a weird way. I feel myself smile at her embarrassment.

 

The invisible noose undoes itself even further, allowing for me to rebalance the oxygen levels in my head, it's not so full of cotton anymore.

 

And on my right, Yuri nuzzles herself deeper into my chest, her breathing just as shaky as mine. Though her hold on me is softening, I feel the urge to help her out.

 

“That applies to you too, Yuri, just calm down and breathe.” I address her in the softest tone I'm capable of, not wanting to frighten her any further.

 

She nods at my words, soon rhythmic bursts of hot air reach through my white undershirt. Absentmindedly I slowly take hand on Yuri’s side and begin to gently stroke her back in little circles. After a couple times around, she heaves a deep sigh and relaxes herself. “Don't go away…” She said, voice muffled.

 

Two pats should hopefully indicate that - for now - I'm not going anywhere.

 

Monika looks pleased.

 

“Feeling better?” She asks.

 

“Yeah…” We all reply in unison.

 

She got a good chuckle at that.

 

“Hey Nanashi,” she starts again.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“How often do things like this happen?”

 

No sense in lying, “Every once in a while.” I answered.

 

“Are they always like this?”

 

“I guess so. Last time was in the kitchen of our house, I found where Mom had hidden the knives. The pain snapped me out of it and I was able to clean myself up before they came back.”

 

Monika’s eyes overflow with melancholy.

 

“The cut wasn't that deep and it's just a scar now. But I remember that night. I had a dream where I was kneeling next to your corpse, Yuri. So maybe that's what caused it.”

 

The girl in question lifted her head a little, “Wha, what happened to me?” She asked, sounding less freaked out than I expected.

 

“Couldn't tell if I'm the one who stabbed you, or if you stabbed yourself… I just...sat there, staring dead-eyed at you for three days. I watched your blood dry and your skin start to droop, but through it all... I swore I heard you speaking to me.”

 

“T-That's horrible…” Yuri shuddered, burying her head back down. Better change the topic before she pukes on me or something.  
  
The awkwardness begins to choke me in place of the noose that I just got untied from my neck, and it’s only getting worse by the second that passes in half-uncomfortable silence.

 

“These moments you have…” Monika comes to the rescue, “...what would you call them?”

 

Huh. Never thought about that before… “I don't know, these do seem different from panic attacks. There's always this overwhelming urge that I have to die. Not 'I _want_ to die' but I **have** to. Like it's a necessary requirement and this world is nothing but emptiness and agony, a place I have to escape from. That way she and I can be together again.” Maybe I went a little too far with that, but I'm doing my best to stay honest.  
  
“Uh...not to go all armchair psychiatrist on you Nanashi,” Monika spoke up, “...but I think this is actually pretty serious. I don’t think anyone else is having hallucinations. Sorry to say.”  
  
“I mean, that’s fine but what kind of serious do you mean? Like, ‘seek professional help’ type serious? Or more of a ‘very likely to be destructive’ type serious?” I ask, hoping to successfully split hairs.  
  
Natsuki kindly informed me in a blunt fashion that, “Those are the same thing.”  
  
I’d been seen through, “Y-You think…?”  
  
Monika huffs a tiny sigh, “Don’t rush him Natsuki. It took a long time for you to start therapy too, remember?”  
  
Woah did I miss something? Looking down at the pink haired girl, her face lights up with flustered embarrassment.  
  
“I-I, ugh! You were supposed to keep that a secret!! A-and it’s only been a few months! Nothing’s even happened yet!”  
  
“Seeking help isn’t anything to get embarrassed about, silly!” Monika chuckles at the smaller girl’s glare.  
  
“Not when you just blurt it out like that you dummy!!! How about telling him about Yuri seeing the shrink too!?”  
  
“N-Natsuki…!” The blushing violet’s cries are still muffled into my shirt, I can almost feel the warmth of her cheeks.  
  
The tiny tyrant is exposing all of us tonight, it seems.  
  
“Actually, that gives me an idea!” The Club President perks up, smiling so happily that I don’t think any of us are capable of at the moment. We each give her our shared confused. “Why don’t we create a new club activity?”  
  
“New club activity?” I repeat.  
  
“Yeah! We’ll each write a one page story based off a significant experience in our lives!” She beamed.  
  
An unsure atmosphere hung in the air.  
  
Our President, having forgotten that she is still rubbing my face, accidentally flicks my ear with her pointer finger, though she doesn’t seem to notice when I flinch.  
“C’mon you guys, it’ll be fun! It doesn’t have to be about anything strictly depressing or happy, just anything that had an impact. Like that time you won two plushies out of a claw machine, or this other time where you finally beat that hard-as-nails boss in your favorite video game? If the thing you have in mind is too much for you to think about, then go with something smaller, like that!”  
  
Yuri at last comes up for air to ask Monika a question, “But...it has to be one page, is that even possible…?” A very good question I might add.  
  
“That’s where the challenge comes in!” She replied, “We all have to get creative enough to make it fit on that single page! No back pages allowed!”  
  
Natsuki clicked her tongue, probably wishing for Monika to have mercy on her. “Well, fiiine geez!" She surrendered begrudgingly, “When do we start?”  
  
“Because of the good source of inspiration it’ll bring, we’ll start after Nanashi’s first psychiatrist appointment!”  
  
That took me by surprise, “Hey, come on that’s cheating!” I whined.  
  
“And while we’re waiting, you could show us some of the things you’ve written in the meantime!” Yuri added, instantly enthusiastic.  
  
“Guys come on, those are terrible! And very very depressing! I don’t think you want to--!”  
  
“And you know what? I want a five page essay on the quality of my cooking!”  
  
“Natsuki are you serious!?” W-Why is everyone ganging up on me??  
  
“I’m always serious!” The tiny devil grinned an impish smile, “You still never told me how my cookies tasted! Or Yuri’s tea for that matter! I bet it got all cold and nasty before you even noticed it huh??”  
  
“Actually that type of tea is Royal Milk Tea, it can be served perfectly well be it hot or cold.”  
  
Oh thank God, Yuri has my back.  
  
“So I’d also like to see you detail the temperature at which you drank it and how it tasted!” She exclaimed with a nigh blinding light in her eyes.  
  
...or not. "I'm already going with you to read the book you recommended together, have mercy on me, okay?" I pouted with faux despair.  
  
“Guys settle down, we only just got him to calm down! Don’t go giving him a heart attack now!” My Savio--our President giggled as she patted my cheeks as if I were some pitiful thing.  
  
“Buuuut I also want to see what you’ve written so bring your best ones!”  
  
“Et tu Monika…?” I sulked, but reluctantly complied with a sigh of surrender.  
  
**___________________________________________**  
  
  
"Monika never said that my one page story couldn't have been about this." I thought to myself, smirking for the first time in a long time as I looked over my early entry of her new club activity. With a yawn, I reread it once more before bed:  
  
It took until the unusually peaceful walk home with all of them at my side before I finally noticed. She never showed up again after they saved me from almost jumping out the window, and for some reason I found myself slightly glad about that, while feeling the same amount of shame to counteract how much of a horrible person I still am.  
Except while walking past her house, I could see her silhouette darken the closed curtains of their living room window, causing my heart to clench painfully.  
  
Monika gripping my hand a little tighter is what made me blink hard enough for her apparition to go away, the three looked at me with concern overflowing in their eyes when I turned back to them at last. I waited and waited but she wouldn’t show herself again. Even now, I still can’t shake the feeling that I’d gotten away with murder. The blood that sometimes appears on my hands when I think about how tightly I might’ve held her the day before, still tricks me into washing my hands until they hurt.  
  
Maybe they’re right, I think to myself, maybe I do need help? It’s not everyday that a parent needs to hide sharp objects from their child out of fear that someone’s gonna end up dead. It’s also not normal to see the maybe-ghost of your murder victim everywhere you go, right?  
  
But this is the only way that I can still see her, I need whatever disorder I have in order to be with her again, at least in spirit! Besides they’re just lying when they say that they care about me! So why bother entertaining them at all!?  
  
The two sides of me had arguments like that, and they went on without end, even as we sat down with my parents and the club members told them what had happened. To confront my parents on the same day the topic of therapy and psychiatry is actually an option...something must be wrong with me…  
  
Well I’ll find out sooner than expected, they found a psychiatrist that seems to specialize in people as screwed up as I am and booked an appointment set for next week. They seemed overjoyed that someone was able to ‘get through to me’ and convince me to get looked at, it’s not everyday Dad cries tears of joy.  
  
But more importantly, I’ve gotta get started on that five page essay the others demanded of me… let’s see.  
  
  
_  
_

_That Five Page Essay You Wanted_ _  
_ _By Nanashi_ _  
__Natsuki and Yuri, your cooking is very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very…_ __  
  
**Doki Doki Literature Club: Nanashi New-START**

**Author's Note:**

> It's a headcanon of mine that the Protagonist is the one who drew the "hxppythxughts.png" picture of Sayori and that he's the one who wrote the unidentifiable Special Poems.  
> Special Poems 1, 4?, 6, 8, 10, and 11 in particular.
> 
> Fun Fact - I've never added pictures to a fanfiction before so it was a struggle figuring out how, oh my God...it was worth it though! Thank you to Voltron Gen Mini Bang for the tutorial on how!
> 
> Monika's Writing Tip of the Day!  
> If you're stuck on a plot point or can't think of a name, or are having trouble in any way, never be afraid to ask for help! Be it from a story generator that you find online, scrolling through Wikipedia for credible enough facts on a particular subject, or just asking a friend for suggestions on what to do next! Just because the story started with you doesn't mean that you should be the only one to work on it. Accepting help from others is not a weakness, in fact a little outside intervention could be what you need to reignite that spark of inspiration you thought would never come back!


End file.
